Leap of InterRickmensional Faith
by MossInfestedDragon00
Summary: With no one else to turn to, and in a desperate bid to escape from a blood soaked past, a jaded and broken Sanji turns to an old friend. During his time in the Smith family house, with insane adventures of fighting intergalactic aliens and battling inner demons, Sanji finds a small slice of peace in an otherwise unstable universe. But what about the past he tries to hide from?
1. Chapter 1

*rises from the grave* I live!

Hello ladies, gentlemen and deities of all types and ages! I didn't expect to write this, and by golly I don't expect anybody to read this, _buuuut_ , since I personally like reading strange and obscure fanfics but am always disappointed at the sheer lack of them I thought to write one!

 _*cough* I'm looking at you Harry Potter/Resident Evil writers *cough*_

WARNING! This is a crossover of Rick and Morty with One Piece which means that there will be mentions and descriptions of alcoholism, drug addiction, language and extreme violence and psychological and emotional torment.

(Disclaimer: this is a fanfiction! I do not own One Piece, which belongs to Eiichiro Oda, nor do I own Rick and Morty, who belongs to Justin Roiland, Dan Harmon and Ryan Ridley. Furthermore, I don't make any profit off of this, it's all purely for entertainment)

Hope you enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

It wasn't until an hour waiting in galactic customs passed, walking past tourist shops and the loud sound spaceships rumbling in the distance, did the tall man in the black duster notice that he was being watched.

He smirked hollowly to himself, the painful monotony of time passing slowly into drunken nights must have had a bigger impact on him that he thought. He frowned, to not notice immediately, even subconsciously, usually meant one of three things; either they were better hidden, fooling his senses…

Or he wanted them to finally catch him after years of broken days and maddening nights.

The man chuckled, an unhinged sound which made a small alien child look at him from behind its considerably bigger relative, with four eyes seemingly under a body of pinkish goo and eight arachnid-like legs resting on its pudgy bod. The man knew if earth ever saw this particular species... chaos.

The tourists and locals in the building moved around in various ways, chattering or talking in many Galactic-common tongue's, indulging themselves with inane hobbies – complacent and happy with the situation they were in.

The man scratched the back of his head idly, dislodging a few strands of hair in the messy ponytail, and to those only passively mulling around, it might have seemed as if he was not paying attention to his surroundings.

However, those smart enough to stay out of his way could see the placid look was purely superficial. He turned his head, a slow panning gaze sweeping across the main area. It seemed natural, lazy even. Yet in his scan for danger, he notices an out-of-place shadow. A narrowing of the visible eye to focus on this dimly lit corner solidifies the unnatural shadow on the white linoleum floor into a figure. A suspiciously familiar figure. The shadow was tall (not in an alien sense, but human-wise), well-built, filling the entirety of the small area, with three alarmingly familiar items protruding in the light, pointed tips glinting, creating a harsh gaze, causing him to look away equally slowly.

Knowing his cover was blown, the figure looked at the shadow once more and with a smirk, he turned his back. The smirk morphed into a wide grin, chapped lips threatening to crack, at the feeling of one eye glaring into his back. He kept walking forward, knowing that the shadow would follow him, until he reached a secluded area outside the main building.

He walked out an emergency exit. Interdimensional customs was built alongside a cliff edge, whether for aesthetic purposes or…emergency situations, the figure didn't know, but right now it was in his favour as he quickly ran to the point, quick enough that he made it in time for the door slamming open moments later, showing him in much greater detail.

"You bastard."

The figure turned from facing the…rather _exotic_ landscape at the sound of the voice growling at him. He didn't say a work, kept the grin on his face.

"We trusted you!" the voice said with such vehemence.

The grin faded slightly, only to return moments later. The figure put on a show of rolling his one visible eye, a stormy grey iris contrasting with the black sclera, making the approaching figure growl loud enough to be heard above the oncoming howling winds. "It's been a long time since I heard you call me that, Zoro." The figure was only a few feet away, easily recognisable in the harsh light of the planet. The opposing figure could clearly see the widening of Zoro's green eye, as if he couldn't logically recognise someone calling him that.

 _Even after all these years…_

Zoro drew one sword with a look of pure rage, the white sheath creating a glare intense enough for the figure to tilt his head.

 _…_ _you still see me as that monster._

Reaching into his breast pockets nonchalantly, the figure pulled out a small pack of cigarettes in a sleek black box. Taking his time, he gently tapped the box on his forearm, forcing a grey cigarette upwards. Putting the cigarette in his mouth, the man pulled out a lighter from the leather duster's right pocket, pausing halfway, arms slightly raised to his chest.

The man swiftly flicked the wheel and ignited the tip of the unusually coloured cigarette. Then he straightened, staring at the green haired man in a fighting stance. Taking a deep breath, the man looked up at the orange sky, taking in the tall, twisting structures with a tired gaze, and after a few seconds breathed out a small cloud of black smoke.

And moved forward with inhuman speed towards Zoro.

One second there was a figure on the cliff, and before the next there was a gust of wind that raced upwards in an ark with the sharp sound of a clang between two opposing men facing each other, one with an angry scowl and the other with a broken grin.

Jumping up with the foot holding back Wado Ichimoni, the figure twisted around in mid-air, black duster fanning out, briefly taking away all light from Zoro's spot, before rocketing down, briefly clipping him in the shoulder before falling and creating a small seismic wave. The lights from interdimensional customs flickered with the disruption.

Quickly Zoro pushed forwards, and with a shout of "Oni Giri!" he drew his other two blades with blinding speed, and created the classic whirlwind. The figure managed to bend and evade the first blast of cutting wind, but the following two caught him by the shoulders, sending blood misting faintly in the air. After a second of pause, the two men became a blur of swords and feet.

After a while of intense fighting the figure pitched forward, not in an attack but in intense pain searing through his nerves, giving an opening for Zoro to slash at his abdomen. However, the man kept fighting, focusing on offence to avoid any incapacitating blows while simultaneously wearing out the swordsman. However moments after, an intense wave of nausea overtakes the man and he moaned, giving the swordsman enough time to strike him, embedding a sleek black sword into the man's shoulder with enough force to push him back.

Stumbling back towards the cliff edge, the man coughed out a spray of blood followed by a harsh laugh.

"Congratulations swordsman, you win."

Spreading his arms out, the man let himself fall backwards into the abyss with a grin.

"Race you to the bottom…"

And he fell.

"Sanji!" he heard, fading away as he plummeted to the ground, however moments later the man dubbed Sanji took out a swirling green chain around his neck and with a breathy chuckle, broke the fragile casing in his hand.

Landing harshly on a hard surface Sanji heard surprised screaming. He wondered if he went to the wrong place but then he heard the unmistakable drunken slur of an old friend.

"S-Sanji? Wh-Why… What are you doing he-HEEA-re?"

Turning his head towards the sound of the voice, Sanji coughed, "Hey R-Rick..."

He then promptly passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

(Disclaimer: this is a fanfiction! I do not own One Piece, which belongs to Eiichiro Oda, nor do I own Rick and Morty, who belongs to Justin Roiland, Dan Harmon and Ryan Ridley. Furthermore, I don't make any profit off of this, it's all purely for entertainment)

Warning: Brief description of a character having a panic attack. if this bothers you, leave or read at your own discretion.

Morty sat silently on the couch, next to the too-nonchalant form of his sister typing away at something on her phone, while he watches yet another episode of ball fondlers with a perpetual bored expression in his blue eyes.

There was a tension between the two siblings, it was thick – thicker than it had been when he almost sliced her cheek open with the small pocket knife he keeps hidden under his bed for when he is sleeping ever since the incident with king jellybean. The feeling of safety it gives him in his second most vulnerable moments was too valuable to stop having it, despite the danger to others if they wake him up in the throes of a nightmare.

 _He refuses to remember the time he slashed Rick's shirt open, refuses to remember the look of confusion and hurt in his eyes when Rick undoubtedly saw the fear in his own. And oh jeez, the beads of blood soaking his shirt. Don't think about it, don't think about it…_

However, for the life of him, Morty couldn't come up with any type of reason for why the air was stifled with tension, almost choking him. When it got to be too much for his already frayed nerves he turned his head around to face his sister with a sigh.

"S-Summer, wh-did- Did I do something wrong? I-I-I mean, y-you're usually not so q-quiet," he stammered, internally cussing over his nervous stutter.

Morty could see the spark of annoyance on his sister's face, a flash of irritation before she turned on him with an unfathomable look. "What's gotten into you lately?" she asked, straightening from her slouched position on the couch to face him fully.

"W-What?" he asked, scratching his arm nervously.

"You've been acting strangely since Rick cured all of the Cronenbergs two months ago," she stated, looking at him as if she was trying to look past his skin and into his soul.

Morty flinched, and with the pull in movement he felt a sharp pain flash across his back.

Summer's eyes narrow, and Morty knows her, or a version of her, enough to know that his sister has enough insight to know that there is something out of the ordinary. But what if she saw and made him go to Mom or Dad, what would happen if she forced him to admit it to _Rick_?

Summer leaned sideward and usually that would help him from a panic attack but it felt as if she was caging him in. Making escape impossible. "Morty, what was that?"

Morty didn't answer, couldn't answer because while it is known that Rick travels space and builds robots for menial tasks, and while it is begrudgingly accepted that he goes with Rick, the odds of them accepting that he and Rick came from a parallel universe that was not fixed – a universe where Mom and Dad and Summer were better off with him gone was slim. They would see it as an opportunity to get rid of them, they weren't this universe's family. No, their family is currently rotting in the back yard. Morty couldn't breathe.

Suddenly he felt someone grab his shoulders and begin shaking him. "Morty! Morty!" Summer was yelling. His breath came back into his lungs almost too quickly. A building pressure in his head threatened to burst his brain.

Suddenly a loud crash startled him enough to look around, he dimly registered Summer standing up and jumping over the couch before coming to stand in front of him. Looking over her shoulder he saw a mysterious figure on top of the now demolished dining room table.

Unexpectedly Rick was the first to investigate the crash, waltzing into the room with a calm borne from being the most threatening thing in a room. However, to Morty's own surprise the second Rick saw the figure he stopped, staring at the figure before taking his flask out with a groan.

Taking a long drink of his flask, Morty saw Rick walk over to the dazed person. "S-Sanji? Wh-Why… What are you doing he-HEEA-re?"

The figure turned iis head towards the sound of Rick's voice and coughed, "Hey R-Rick..."

He then promptly passed out.

Morty saw Rick lift the now unconscious man up before turning to face him and Summer.

With the new viewpoint Morty saw that the man looked to be between his mid-twenties/early thirties, his hair was long, hanging in a low ponytail at the back, messy and unkempt. His fringe was dyed a rusty copper at the edges, some hair was hanging down his left side, covering half of his face and connecting to the ponytail with what looked to be red wire. The figure briefly opened his eye with a groan.

"Oi, bastard, pass out it - it will m-aah-ke things easier for y-y for you," Rick said, already dragging him towards him and Summer.

Yet the eye which _could_ be seen was a hollow grey with flecks of neon blue dusting near the pupil, and it didn't take a genius to see the thinly caged violence and madness which resided in that eye. Morty sees that same look when he stares Rick in the eyes.

And lately…he's starting to see it in himself when he looks into a mirror.

"Hey, help me get him on the couch. H-h-he will bleed do d-eeea-ath if I move him too much. Mo-ooou-rty, get the med kit" Morty snapped out of his musings at Rick's voice.

Morty slinked off the couch walking in the kitchen, coming back with a metallic box, handing it to his grandfather.

Without looking at Morty, Rick took the kit before turning back to the groaning man on the couch.

"Shut u-uuuh-p, I'm the one wh-who will have to clean the co-oough-uch"


End file.
